Fastened
by roktavor
Summary: No matter how much Keicho disparages the idea of soulmates, Okuyasu can't help but long for whoever might happen to be tied to the other end of his own red string. (warning for implied/referenced child abuse)


**A/N:** For the Josuyasu week day 2 prompt: soulmate AU.

* * *

**Fastened**

The red string tied to Okuyasu's pinky tugs a little, and he stops short, peering down at it. It's never done that before…and now it's doing it _again_, going taut and then slack.

Beside him, Keicho keeps walking, his hand slipping out of Okuyasu's – but it barely registers. Okuyasu is paying too much attention to the string on his finger to really notice he's been left behind until Keicho comes stomping back all grumpy.

"Keep up, Okuyasu!" he grouches, picking up Okuyasu's lax hand and trying to urge him along with it. "We hafta get home before dad."

"But –"Okuyasu's argument is cut off by that red string yanking _harder_; so much that he's very nearly jerked towards a big building across the street. The only thing that stops him is Keicho's grip keeping him grounded on the sidewalk.

"What are you doing?"

And that's an awfully silly question, in Okuyasu's opinion. "It's not me!" He wouldn't throw himself out into the street, after all – not without looking both ways first. "It's the string!"

As proof, that thin red string straining against his pinky has his arm pulled out straight to the side in its efforts to guide him to that big building over there.

"Just ignore it," Keicho insists, "we gotta get home, I told you."

"But, bro…!"

Keicho hauls him back when the red string pulls again, and Okuyasu topples into him with the force of it.

"I really think I should follow it –"

"No," Keicho snaps, giving another rough tug that has Okuyasu stumbling a few steps down the street, his arm still at the whims of the string.

Mom always said there was no need to ignore the string if it pulled, because it would only lead to happiness. The thought is exciting, but remembering mom makes Okuyasu too sad to argue this point – never mind that Keicho says not to bring her up – plus it kinda hurts, being played tug of war with like this…

All in all Okuyasu doesn't think he can be blamed if he starts to tear up a little. Or if maybe one or two of those tears escape down his cheeks.

Finally giving up on his yanking, Keicho sighs. He bends down some so that he's face to face with Okuyasu, and mutters, "Don't cry, alright?"

Okuyasu nods with a sniffle, doing his best to hold the tears in. They stress Keicho out, he knows.

"Now isn't a good time to follow it," Keicho explains as he stands back up straight.

And maybe he's right, like he is about a lot of other stuff. He always keeps Okuyasu safe, always knows just what to do to fix any problem or get out of any trouble; it stands to reason that he knows what he's talking about when it comes to this, too. They _do_ need to get back before dad comes home, after all.

So Okuyasu follows when Keicho starts to coax him down the street in a gentler way. The red string pulls taut for a moment, and gives a bit of a fight, but then it starts to slacken more and more the further away they get from that big building.

"'Sides," Keicho says, once they're almost at the corner, "that's a hospital, anyway. If your soulmate is in there, they might be dyin' or something."

Eyes wide, Okuyasu stares behind them at the hospital, almost tripping over his feet until they turn onto the next street and it disappears from view.

x

Over the next couple weeks, Okuyasu keeps an eye on his red string. Just in case. It doesn't fade away or sever or anything, just keeps on looking the same as it always has. Pretty and red and tied in little knot with a bow – kinda like how Okuyasu's been practicing on his shoes. It quivers whenever he goes near that hospital.

…He doesn't walk down that _exact_ street anymore, though. Keicho takes them on different roads, keeping them a street or two over at all times, almost like he's afraid Okuyasu will run off to live at the hospital instead.

Which Okuyasu absolutely will _not_ do. He could never leave Keicho like that. Or dad.

He just wants to go and see. Just a quick look would be fine! His soulmate is in there, after all! Anyone would be curious.

And it'd be a nice break, getting to spend time somewhere else.

Keicho protects him, yeah, but Keicho has school, and they can't spend all of their free time out of the house, or their dad'll just get angrier. So, sometimes, Okuyasu is home and in the way when dad's had a bad day, and sometimes he gets hit, and it hurts, and he cries, so he gets hit _more_ –

Lying in bed, Okuyasu curls up into a tight ball. He doesn't wanna think about that, or the way his cheek still stings.

Instead, he focuses on that red string. It's relaxed now, like it has been for a while. They live too far away from the hospital for his soulmate to make it pull like that day on the sidewalk all the time.

But he's been paying extra attention, lately, focusing all of his brainpower on remembering the paths that he and Keicho walk (even though he's not too smart) and he thinks he knows the way to that hospital. He should at least be able to get to that neighborhood – the string will guide him from there.

It's dark out right now. He's not supposed to go anywhere at night. Not even _Keicho_ leaves at night…at least not often.

Their dad made it to his bed tonight, though, and is passed out there instead of on the couch or in his office. So, probably, maybe, _hopefully_ no one is around to notice Okuyasu slipping out.

Running away for good isn't his plan. He just wants to go and see who's on the other end of his string.

That's okay, right?

He'll come right back, when he's done and after he's seen. No one has to know he went anywhere at all.

Mind made up and courage gathered, Okuyasu shimmies out from under his covers. Tiptoeing over to his door is easy enough, and Keicho showed him the best way to walk the halls without making any of the floorboards squeak. Keeping close to the walls and furniture, Okuyasu creeps his way to the front door.

The hinges creak on his way out, but pausing to hold his breath and stare back into the dark house reveals no one coming. So Okuyasu shuts it real slow and careful behind himself, then takes off at a run through the grass, shoes clutched in his hand. Once he's out of sight of any of the windows, he sits on the curb to put them on. Lucky he left them tied so he doesn't have to fuss with tricky knots.

Then he's off down the road, in the direction he's pretty sure the hospital is in. All he has to do is get close, and the string will take care of the rest – that's the idea he clings to, because everything looks different in the dark than he's used to, and if he's right it should be a left up ahead, but what if it isn't…?

That's what he's pondering when he hears the sound of pounding feet accompanied by Keicho's voice shouting, "Okuyasu!"

He freezes in place, torn between hurrying on his way and waiting for Keicho to reach him to plead his case. It takes him too long to put together how Keicho's way faster than him and so he'd never get away anyway – by the time he does, Keicho's already caught up, gripping Okuyasu's shoulder tightly and hanging onto him.

"You idiot," Keicho hisses, still catching his breath, "what are you doing?!"

There's no use hiding it: "I…I just wanted ta see where it lead." Okuyasu lifts up his hand, holding out his pinky with that red string tied around it, showing Keicho what he means. "I was gonna come right back, I swear!"

His face falling into a sour frown, Keicho grouches, "That's a stupid reason to run off."

Oh. Okuyasu didn't really think so, but Keicho is way smarter than him – he might have a point. Maybe the potential consequences do outweigh the rewards. He is almost lost, after all, and could actually have wound up that way if Keicho hadn't come along.

"I know," Okuyasu lies, scuffing his toe along the ground.

Keicho rolls his eyes, because he can _always_ tell when Okuyasu is fibbing. Letting go of Okuyasu's shoulder with a shove, he grabs for a hand instead, squeezing it and using it to drag Okuyasu back down the street, toward their house.

"You and that stupid red string," he grumbles, giving an especially insistent yank when Okuyasu stumbles. "Just let it go already, you're always starin' at it."

Okuyasu _hates_ arguing with Keicho. It makes his stomach hurt, but something about what Keicho just said makes that pain worse, and Okuyasu can't help the words that spill out. "Mom said they were special, an' – an' that we're special for bein' able to see 'em! 'Cause –"

Keicho only pulls him along harder, jerking at Okuyasu's hand until they're side by side no matter how much longer his legs are, and it takes Okuyasu a second to get his feet back under him before he can continue his thought.

"'Cause not everyone _can_ see 'em!"

Stopping short, Keicho rounds on Okuyasu, towering over him and scowling down. "Yeah? And look where that got her and dad!"

His vision all blurry, Okuyasu suddenly wants nothing more than to hide in his bed. "B-but –"

"Shut up, Okuyasu." The squeezing grip of Keicho's hand goes almost painful while he talks. "Forget about it, okay? It'll only hurt you – an' like I said before, your soulmate's in the hospital. Been there for a while, so it's probably somethin' real bad."

Okuyasu flinches. He can't bring himself to look Keicho in the eye. Staring down instead shows him that Keicho ran out after him in bare feet. There are tears dripping down Okuyasu's cheeks. He does his best to wipe them away with his free arm, bothering his bruised face.

"Kei – Keicho –" Everything else gets stuck to the lump in Okuyasu's throat, adding weight to it.

Keicho's hand lets go, and now he's back in Okuyasu's line of vision, although Okuyasu hasn't lifted his head at all. Crouched on the pavement, Keicho pulls his jacket sleeves over his hands, and uses them to wipe careful at Okuyasu's cheeks. "Jeez you're a crybaby," he mumbles. "Just imagine how much you'd cry if you got attached to some soulmate who died. It'd be mom all over again. You don't want that, right?"

That sounds worse than the worst thing that Okuyasu can think of. Makes his chest tight and hard to even imagine. Sniffling up the snot that threatens to escape his nose, he shakes his head no.

"Good." Keicho nods, wipes Okuyasu's cheeks off one last time before standing. "Now try and quit cryin'. We still gotta sneak back inside without waking dad…"

x

The red string on Okuyasu's pinky has been nonresponsive for _years_, now, and he's long since accepted that he may never meet the person tied to the other end.

As Keicho's drilled into his head, that isn't necessarily a bad thing.

"We're better off alone until we get our family garbage sorted out," Keicho'd said, a long time ago, a pair of sharp scissors in his hand gnawing at the string to no avail, "I'd cut this damn thing if I could!"

Not just cut – he'd tried burning it and untying it, too. Even pulling at the knot with his teeth, hoping to slip it free of his pinky. Nothing had worked, but each time he'd ranted and raved about how inconvenient and useless and frivolous the red strings are. How much of a sham they are, how he and Okuyasu would be better off unable to see them – would be better off not even _having_ them.

All the while Okuyasu would sit and nod along. Twining his own red string between his fingers, privately daydreaming. About stupid stuff.

Like…nice soulmates…

Pretty girls who would think he was handsome and strong and not care that he cries a lot or his brain doesn't work right. They'd hold him, maybe, and sing to him like his mom used to, because they love him and want to keep the nightmares away.

Sometimes, he'd think about pretty _boys_ doing the same. Pretty _anyone_, hugging him, being with him, understanding him.

Especially when things got real rough. Like those times when he was so scared he'd hide under his bed from his dad's drunken anger, cowering and letting Keicho take the brunt of it again.

And the time when he was too cowardly to face the monstrous thing that his dad had become to do something as simple as feed him, and Keicho had to take on that chore, too, on top of everything else. (Until he got tired of that and dragged a protesting Okuyasu into the room, locked them all up together until Okuyasu could bear it, and said, "See, that wasn't so bad.")

And the time when he was casually called over to Keicho's room, only to be shot in the chest with an arrow, hurting like hell until he wasn't, and soon after, pressure was put on him to use The Hand to erase their –

Memory lane isn't a fun place.

Point is, through it all Okuyasu has had his secret, soft hope. Faint as it became over the years, he can still cling to it.

The arrow, it turns out, alters fate so well that Keicho was able to slice that string free of his pinky with it, severing it for good. His shoulders feel lighter now – so he says, giving a satisfied smile every time – and he keeps offering the same "freedom" to Okuyasu.

Okuyasu keeps right on refusing it, no matter how many times Keicho calls him a sentimental crybaby. That tiny ray of _maybe_ is something that Okuyasu needs desperately, but he can't admit this to Keicho. Not ever.

Just the thought of spilling those secrets makes his heart all heavy in his chest with dread, and tightens his stomach to a leaden ball.

It wouldn't surprise him if Keicho can see right through him, though, when it comes to this.

That's why, as Okuyasu stands here on the curb of his new life, in front of the latest rundown house in a long string of rundown houses, clutching a box of his meager possessions to his chest, he knows he really, _really_ should get a move on. Any minute now, Keicho will notice that he's stopped, and get suspicious. All it'll take is a glance for him to figure out what's up.

But! At the same time!

There's a tugging on Okuyasu's pinky. His heart feels light, and his tight stomach loosens into what feels like a delicate cloud, or some dandelion seeds blown free to ride the wind, because…!

Because!

Across the street and around the corner a little ways – real close by – there's someone attached to his string. It's pulling taut, like that day by the hospital, like it hasn't done since. Achingly familiar feelings are waking up that Okuyasu's sure should be long dormant.

It's – it's such bad timing, Keicho will be back outside soon, and he'll _see_, and then he'll – he'll –

Okuyasu _has_ to know. More than anything he wants to see. To find out who's at the other end of this string.

So he takes a few hesitant steps down the sidewalk, craning his neck.

Two guys come into view, walking the street perpendicular to Okuyasu's. They're probably on their way to school, if the uniforms and satchels and the time of day are anything to go by. One of them is almost comically short compared to the other, who is – who is – who's –

Well. Okuyasu isn't good with words, but, the tall guy is _beautiful_. More beautiful than anyone Okuyasu's ever seen in his life, probably. The sight of him makes Okuyasu's heart skip a beat, just like in all those romance novels that Keicho hides and pretends not to read.

Tall, beautiful guy has great hair, too. And pretty eyes, though Okuyasu can't really see 'em from here…they're probably the sparkling kind that reflect sunlight and moonlight in equal measure, and put the stars to shame. And his uniform flatters the graceful shape of his body, hugging every –

Okay.

Okay, Okuyasu, calm down.

He's tottered a couple more steps down the sidewalk without meaning to, and his jaw is slack. Looking ridiculous, probably. Keicho's always telling him he doesn't need help with that, so he better shut his mouth at least.

More important than _anything_ is the fact that Tall Beautiful Sparkling Eyes has a red string attached to his pinky finger and pulled taut in Okuyasu's direction.

He can't feel it or see it of course, but Okuyasu _can_. That's his soulmate over there, and that's –

"Oi, Okuyasu! Quit slackin' off!"

Nearly dropping his box, Okuyasu scrambles to save it from hitting the ground while turning to face Keicho's irritation. "S-sorry!"

"You can explore later, dipshit," Keicho says, face set in a concrete glare.

"I was just…" Okuyasu gives up on finding an excuse, unable to fight the compulsion to check over his shoulder. The other boy is gone.

The string at Okuyasu's pinky goes a little more lax with each step he takes into his house, and with each step his soulmate takes toward (presumably) school.

…_Still_.

Okuyasu doesn't feel sad. He can't, because they're in the same _neighborhood_, he and his soulmate.

Not even Keicho's grumbled out, "Don't get excited," (because _of course_ he saw) as he bumps into Okuyasu's shoulder is enough to dampen his spirits.

x

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh _no_.

Of all the worst-case scenarios surrounding Okuyasu's soulmate that he could come up with (quite a lot, it turns out), this tops even the worst of them (the ghost theory).

Keicho – smart, reliable, careful Keicho – is asking – no, _ordering_ Okuyasu to make Josuke Higashikata disappear.

This order is perfectly acceptable; it makes sense to get rid of any stand users that might make trouble for him and Keicho. Anyone who gets in Keicho's way has to go, sure, and Okuyasu is glad for the chance to be trusted with something so important.

But…the thing is…

Josuke Higashikata just so happens to be the real name of Tall Beautiful Sparkling Eyes.

This is something that Okuyasu has just discovered this exact moment. His string is pulling like crazy, and even though he's doing pretty well at pretending nothing's happening when all he wants to do is give in and dive toward the other end of the string, he would still rather not have to _eliminate his soulmate_.

Keicho…he…has to know that, right? He's gotta have some sympathy for this, or something, right? Okuyasu stares up at him for a long time, where he's standing shadowed in that window, trying to implore him without using words.

"Okuyasu, don't stall!"

Well, the staring isn't working. Must be the distance. Time to try words: "But Keicho, he's –"

"It doesn't matter!" Keicho barks. "_Anyone_ who stands in our way is an enemy."

This isn't good. Okuyasu is feeling all scrambled, and the louder he shouts, the less effective his whining is. "Bro, please –"

"_Erase_ _him_, Okuyasu! We're not messing around."

If only Okuyasu had a stand that could travel back in time instead. Then he'd use it to go back, stay inside and not act on his curiosity – he should've known that following the pull of the string to his front yard, hoping for one more glance of his soulmate was a bad idea. With Keicho home and pissed off, especially.

Just his luck that _this_ is how he comes face to face with his soulmate.

At least he was right about those eyes. They do sparkle, although right now they're kinda blazing with rage instead. Okuyasu can't blame Josuke for that. He'd be mad, too, if someone shot his friend in the throat with a bow and arrow…though, the short guy _was_ trespassing…

Keicho always knows the right thing to do, but now there's a yearning pull in Okuyasu's chest that's insisting he treat Josuke much nicer than outright attacking him with intent to kill.

The red string is telling him that Keicho is _wrong_. At least about this, or maybe just soulmates in general. Which is what Okuyasu has kinda been hoping for, all these years, but that would make him a shitty brother, for not trusting Keicho.

Or would it? Keicho's been wrong about other things. Like the dog that wandered around their old neighborhood – he'd said it was either rabid or already had a home, but Okuyasu figured out that it was sweet and gentle and wanted a friend just as bad as Okuyasu did.

He's getting off track.

All this thinking is making his head hurt.

Should he go with his gut? And which one is his gut: his obey-Keicho instinct, or his follow-the-red-string instinct?

"I…I can't –"

Josuke scoffs. "Well, I can!"

The last thing Okuyasu hears is that melodic-harsh voice before something collides with his head, and he's dead to the world.

x

Okuyasu can't remember the last time he felt so _right_. He doesn't think he ever has before, unless it was a real long time ago, like when he was two years old and his family was all happy and whole.

Ah. That's kind of a depressing thought. It's bringing down Okuyasu's rightness, so he lets it ebb away in favor of focusing on anything else instead.

For once that's easy enough.

Josuke helps, like he always does anymore. He's a balm – like a kiss or a bandage on the scraped knee of life. Maybe that's got something to do with Crazy Diamond's powers? Or maybe it's the red string of fate working its magic? Either one is possible, but it doesn't much matter to Okuyasu exactly _how_ it works, only that it does. (Hopefully he offers the same uplifting feeling to Josuke.)

The sheer proximity of Josuke is a factor, with him sitting against his headboard and letting Okuyasu curl up beside him, lean in against him – so long as he stays on the opposite side of those deep, slow-healing puncture wounds. Josuke is warm and solid. A perfect pillow, even after his stint in the hospital where he got all weak and pale…

Okuyasu snuggles in closer when those _can't-lose-you_ fears rear their heads to start pushing at the edges of his comfort, and Josuke accepts him, wrapping an arm around him while his other hand continues to play with Okuyasu's hair. It's got gel in it still, left there because Okuyasu was too lazy to shower before coming to visit, so Josuke's doing that thing where he spikes it, giggles at how dumb it looks, then smooths it into a comb-over and giggles at how dumb _that_ looks – rinse and repeat, with as many goofy hairstyles as Josuke can think up. Crazy Diamond helps, too, Okuyasu's pretty sure.

For someone who hates having his own hair messed with – in fact, it's un-styled right now and Okuyasu is under strict orders not to comment on it – he sure does get a kick out of ruining Okuyasu's.

Lucky for him, Okuyasu doesn't mind at all. It feels good, actually, those long fingers rubbing his scalp, manicured nails (filed and buffed to more perfection than usual, thanks to all the time Josuke's spent cooped up – he did Okuyasu's, too) scratching with just the right amount of pressure…

Okuyasu is liable to fall asleep any second, lulled into a deep state of relaxation. Which probably counts as counterproductive, because he was sent up here by Tomoko to enforce nap time. But Josuke doesn't seem all that sleepy, and now _he's_ holding _Okuyasu_ just as much as Okuyasu is holding him.

What's Okuyasu supposed to do, though, under those gentle hands, and with that soft voice singing along to the Prince album playing quietly in the background?

Josuke always gets half the words wrong, gives up and hums sometimes. He might even be off-key by professional standards – Okuyasu doesn't know, he's not an expert. And he doesn't _care_, either, because to him Josuke's singing is a masterpiece as beautiful as Josuke himself is.

It's…it's enough to, on his weaker days, push Okuyasu to – to tears – and hang on, hold up, his eyes are a little blurry right now, what is he _doing_ –

The hand in his hair stops halfway through spiking it, warm fingertips leaving it to brush over Okuyasu's cheek instead.

"Hey – hey what's wrong?" Josuke says, sounding almost loud after all that soft singing. "You okay? Why're you crying?"

Okuyasu shrugs. "I…I dunno, man, was just thinkin'…" Really, that's all he was doing. He should've known it wouldn't turn out right – it never really does, when he tries. But Josuke…

Pillowed lips press to Okuyasu's forehead, and just like that he's somehow even more comfortable than he was before this stupid crying fit. Josuke kisses him again, and he hiccups a quiet sob, sniffling while careful fingers continue to wipe away his tears.

"S'okay," Josuke mumbles, his mouth against Okuyasu's forehead, "we're alright – I'm here, yeah?"

Okuyasu nods into the hand that's now cupping his cheek, a thumb stroking back and forth beneath one surely-puffy eyelid. He kinda wants to scrub his own tears away, but the warm weight of Josuke's hand feels too good there, and Okuyasu can see that red string out of the corner of his eye, starting at Josuke's pinky and twined around their bodies from there. It's all so comfortable that the only movement he can manage is to snuggle into Josuke's shoulder.

"M'real glad I met you, Josuke." It'd be nice to look at Josuke's face while saying that that – maybe see those sparkling eyes and get to witness the rare sight of dark hair falling around them – but he doesn't quite get there. Settles for playing with the hem of Josuke's t-shirt instead.

"I'm glad I met you, too, Okuyasu."

The warmth that sends flooding into Okuyasu's heart spreads the feeling of _rightness _through his entire being. Daydreams are one thing, but never, _ever_ did Okuyasu seriously think that one day he'd get to _have_ this. Huddled close, warm and safe and content and wrapped up in his soulmate after everything.

When Josuke chuckles, Okuyasu can feel it all along where their sides are touching. "We're havin' a moment, aren't we?" is apparently what's so funny.

A sleepy smile tugs at the corners of Okuyasu's mouth. "Heh. Yeah."

"Like," more giggling, "like one of those real sappy couples?"

Now Okuyasu is giggling, too, a victim of contagious laughter. "Yeah! That's us now, dude!"

Josuke's smile is properly blinding in the dim bedroom, the sheer brilliance of it aimed directly at Okuyasu. It sets off a fluttery feeling in Okuyasu's stomach, and Josuke's hand is still resting on his cheek, even though he's not really crying anymore.

Teeth sinking into his plush bottom lip, Josuke dips his face in real close – so Okuyasu squirms up some, trying not to jostle them too much while Josuke's hand guides him in for a warm, lingering kiss.

"Great," Josuke mumbles when they part, his lips brushing Okuyasu's on the word.

* * *

**A/N:** (I tried to write Keicho as trying too hard to be tough - especially as a kid - while still showing gruff care toward Okuyasu. I didn't intend to make him blindly cruel, so, I hope he came across alright...)

Thanks for reading!

EDIT: added segment breaks that are compatible with FFN :'D


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